We sit in silence for several moments before she speaks again. “Who would you have written to? If you had the chance?”
I’ve never opened up. I mean, barely. Not to the level she has, and I’m perfectly comfortable with that. I like my privacy. Crave it even. That’s why, for the life of me, I can’t figure out why I open my mouth and let the words pour out.
“Dolores.”
Courtney looks at me expectantly, patiently waiting for more, and for some fucking reason, I give it to her oh so willingly.
“She owns this run-down diner back home. It’s one of the only places open twenty-four hours a day. It barely breaks even, honestly, because she hasn’t raised her prices in over fifteen years. She says everyone has to eat, no matter their situation. I swear to God that woman has more strays hanging around the place than paying customers.”
“And you used to be one of those strays, didn’t you?” Courtney says like she can see straight through me.
“Yeah. I got tired of being bounced around, beat on, used for nothing but a check from the state. I know there are good foster homes out there, but I didn’t find a single one of them. So one night I ran. It got cold and dark; I didn’t know where I was. I ended up finding the diner and sleeping in the bathroom before Dolores came and woke me up the next morning.”
I let out a rough chuckle as I shake my head. Fuck. It still feels like yesterday that I was that scared and angry kid.
“She took one look at me and took me home. Made me shower because she said I smelled like a sewer rat. Gave me someof her son’s old clothes and brought me back to the diner, where I cleared five plates of pancakes before saying I was full.”
“She looked after you,” Courtney says with a small, understanding smile.
“She saved me,” I correct. “I’m not the first or the last she’s helped, but I am the one that’s stuck around the longest. I was thirteen when I first met her.”
“And what about now? Do you see her much?”
I nod. “Every morning for a plate of pancakes. I insist on paying now. Most of the time I have to sneak the money into the drawer when she isn’t looking. That’s, uh, that’s why I’m here.”
Suddenly, I feel anxious and raw, talking about a time in my life I never speak of. I instantly regret it, but when I see the look on Courtney’s face, empathetic and understanding, something settles in me, at least enough to finish.
“The bank is trying to take the diner. She’s up to her neck in debt with no way out. Forty years of being a goddamn saint has unfortunately come to bite her in the ass.”
Courtney frowns. “What about her son? Can’t he help?”
“That prick wants her to sell,” I scoff. “He’s the one doing deals with the bank. When Dolores’s husband died, she gave his half to their kid. Now he wants his money out of it and to move on.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the irritation leeching off her. It feels fucking validating to have someone as pissed off with Rick as I am.
“So when I heard about the crazy cash prize for winning this reality TV show, I didn’t even think twice. I put in my notice at work and sent in my application. I came to win, for Dolores. I want to pay off her asshole son, get her debt free and clear, and retire her. I know she wants to keep the diner open, and I plan to, but she needs to rest. She’s getting too old and too weak to runherself into the ground the way she has been. She needs to take care of herself because the community needs her… So do I.”
Courtney’s quiet for several moments. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my gutter-orphan story scared her away or something. Then she gently leans forward and presses her lips against mine. It’s a ghost of a kiss. One that sends my heart jackhammering, then plummeting the instant she pulls away. I crave her instantly, and it takes everything in me not to bury my hands in her hair and drag her back to me.
Her face is still only inches from mine, and her eyes are searching mine desperately, like she’s trying to gauge my reaction.
“Why’d you do that?” I rasp.
“I don’t know…” she murmurs. “I just… wanted to, I guess.”
That’s literally all I needed to hear. Then I’m cupping her face in my hands and bringing her lips back to mine. Right where they fucking belong.
Chapter Twenty Four
Courtney
The next morning, I don’t wake up in Landon’s arms or to find breakfast at the ready, which yeah, makes me sound like a total brat, but what can I say? Our whole fake-in-love or falling-in-love façade has a girl spoiled. Instead, we’re woken up by flashing white lights and a fire alarm.
Landon and I jump out of bed simultaneously, trying to allow our minds to catch up to what the fuck is going on as we look around the room. It’s still pitch black outside, which means it’s still the dead of night, but this is definitely some kind of alarm system going off.
Wordlessly, Landon grabs my hand in his and begins guiding us out of the house. As we run down the hallway, several other doors open, sleep-deprived people fumbling for clothes as they also make their way outside. Glancing down at my attire, I can’t say I love being in a pair of panties and a tank top with no bra, but I guess it’s better than being naked.
When we make it outside, several cameramen are set up in position, filming us as we emerge. In front of the burning fire pit, Alex is standing in a ridiculous pajama set.
